Departure

Gin didn’t know how to react. On Gin’s bed was a pile of boxes. Each and every one of them had the same, mage-meat-filled, premade meal. On top of it all was a letter, written by Joan. The handwriting was horrendous. The words were written like they are pronounced, rather than their correct spelling.

It contained instructions and warnings, ranging from how to eat the food to, in her own words, “Dont you dare get badly hert or I’ll kill you insted”. So much for her enjoying healing Gin. The rest of letter was just as bad. Did the MBP not teach grammar, or even simple punctuation? Gin wondered. Granted Gin wasn’t perfect, but at least it was miles above this atrocity.

Joan didn’t leave peacefully either. She argued with Gin, in front of his battalion, complaining about how much work he’d made them do.

‘They need to practise or we’ll be outclassed,’ he said at the time.

‘We need them healthy. I.e. not in the pathetic state you leave them in after each session,’ she snapped back.

‘They won’t be efficient if they ease up on the training.’

‘They won’t be efficient if they get injured pointlessly.’

‘There’s a point in practise!’

‘There’s a point in resting, too!’

There was no chance of winning against her, so Gin conceded. He didn’t believe he was wrong. It was just that Joan put out valid arguments. There’s a difference. Almost all of the medics, Joan included, were part of the other group that left the day before, which made the decision final. It was only a matter of time till Gin’s group left Jerusalem as well.

Gin equipped his Xernims with blades and shields, loaded his belt with the INS, and put on the stone chest plate Michal made for him. It was surprisingly light despite its looks. There were heavier versions but Gin wanted his mobility, so opted out of those. Luckily Michal’s battalion finished the armour on time.

Each set was unique from individual to individual. The water elementals, for example, had flexible material on the inside to accommodate their stretching bodies. The fire elementals had various holes on their handguards to allow oil flow and to let their finger ignite the fuel. The bestials varied between light and heavy armour, depending on their strength, size and preference. Compared to what everyone wore before (leather and Rezah bark), the armour was a major improvement in terms of defence.

‘You in there Gigi?’

‘Yeah. Co-’

Wo barged in without letting Gin finish. He carried two small capsules in his hands, giving both to Gin. They had a ‘do not use unless emergency’ label on them. Gin had a feeling he knew what they were but had to make sure.

‘What are these?’ he asked.

‘The last of your nanobot-boosters.’

‘Thought so. Are they really what’s left?’

‘We didn’t bring that many when we fled the village. I had to use two when you were in a coma as well. We didn’t even bring the machine that makes them with us. If something similar happens again, you’ll only be able to recover once. Get another fatal injury after that and you probably won’t live.’

‘All the more reason for us to go back to my village.’

‘I’ll ask the colonel to allow a side mission once your battle is done.’

‘Does she know?’

‘That you’re a manush? No. That’s our secret. Everyone would hate you if they found out. Can’t have that now, can we?’

‘You’re awfully serious today. I would have expected you to joke about telling everyone.’

‘Gen would be rolling in his grave if I ever caused you serious harm.’

‘Instead you send his son to war.’

‘Meh. Better than dying of starvation and dehydration, in the desert.’

‘Haha, maybe. Oh. I should get going. We need to do our final checks.’

‘Good luck, Gigi. Win one for Eurasia, even if this is a low-level clash.’

‘Will do. By the way, where’s the colonel? Haven’t seen her yet.’

‘She went and took some of the A ranks and above towards Squadron M’s base. She said she needed to get something.’

‘Huh. I wanted to ask her about something.’

‘Save it for after you’ve won. You should be going anyway, Gigi.’

‘That’s true. It was nice to have a decent conversation with you for once.’

‘Hey. I’m not that bad!’

‘Sure you aren’t,’ Gin replied sarcastically.

Gin placed the nano-boosters in an INS-sized container and fitted that on his belt. With that done, he was ready. All that’s left was to make sure the others were in the same boat.

The walk was relatively quiet. Half of the squadron had already left, while the rest were waiting outside. There were a few still inside, hurrying to get things ready. He saw new breeds of mage amongst those few. The general trait they had was that their skin looked layered and flaky, as if to fall off any moment. There was nothing to suggest any offensive capabilities nor any defensive ones.

The odd one out was a ‘petite’ man. ‘Petite’ as he was still taller than Gin, (who had now accustomed to judge mages relative to other mages, rather than his manush standards). It was just that he was small for a mage at seven feet. Despite his (relatively) small stature, he was covered a stone exoskeleton that stuck to her body, akin to Alder’s Xernim, that made him sturdier than most. A new type of stone elemental? Why hadn’t he seen these mages before?

Those mages weren’t the only firsts for Gin. Outside the rezah were several wooden carts and caravans, lined up and filled with food, water and material. Each was assigned a lupim; smaller that Emsee’s but were packed with more muscle to carry the carts. Gin thought it was strange. The mages were so prideful in their own abilities that the thought of using vehicles, even if they’re as basic as a cart, was something he didn’t expect.

Maybe mages thought using animals don’t count, Gin thought. The way the mages used technology made it seem like anything made in the last three-thousand years didn’t exist. It would have been a different story had Gin showed them the cars from his village. The mages probably would have rejected them straight away.

There were tinoos flying overhead, going around in circles. All of them had red plumes, and eyes that that lit up under the dark before the dawn. Their formation signalled that everyone was to stay put. It was a matter of time before they change their flight pattern.

‘Gin! You ready?’ Brim called out, as he finished talking with members from his battalion.

‘Yeah,’ Gin replied. ‘How long left till we leave?’

‘Still a few more days. Most of the combatants are ready, though,’ Brim said, indicating to the battalions standing in a half-hearted square formation. ‘We’re just getting our supplies loaded now. Want to help out?’

‘Maybe later. My battalion is probably waiting for me.’

‘Suit yourself. Your battalion is next to the caravans anyway. Might as well accompany me.’

Gin nodded in agreement. After letting Brim have a few final words with his battalion, the headed towards the caravans. The usual items, like jugs of water, fruit, meat and tents, were loaded into them. However, what caught Gin’s eyes were the same, flaky-skinned mages, whom he saw in the rezah, boarding them as well. Alongside them was another new type of mage Gin had never seen before. Their body was covered by some sort of shrubbery and branches.

‘Who are they?’ Gin asked.

‘Those guys? Oh, they’re our food,’ brim replied.

‘Eh?’

‘Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the utility farmer types before?’

‘They’re the farmers?!’

‘Why are you so surprised? Why did you expect?’

‘People with a plot of land and tools,’ Gin said, raising Brim’s eyebrow.

‘I don’t even want to know where you get these ideas. But no. The flabby ones provide us with the meat, and the ones with the bushes grow fruits on their body.’

The thought, that even the fruits were tainted by the mages, made Gin feel queasy. Did that count as cannibalism? He already tried to boycott the meat, but now he didn’t know if the vegetarian food was safe to eat either. Both the meat and plants tasted amazing and he was assured they were good for his health too. There wasn’t a reason not to eat them. Why did it still feel so wrong? Gin wondered.

‘Alright. This is where we part ways,’ Brim said. ‘You’re free to come and help out after you’re done.’

‘Sure,’ Gin replied.

‘Oh! Forgot to give you this.’

Brim handed Gin over several cuboid-shaped stone containers. Gin opened one and smelt the distinct aroma of a mage’s oil. Just what Gin had asked for! It was only a matter of time before he incorporated it into his blade boxing.

‘Thanks! Can’t wait to use them,’ Gin said.

‘No problem,’ Brim responded as they said their final goodbyes.

Once they noticed him, Gin’s battalion immediately went into a block formation. It was a satisfying feeling. It also allowed an easy method of counting attendance. Three filled-out blocks of twenty-four by nine confirmed that everyone was there. The maths was simple, or at least it was for Gin. Joan’s letter made him question whether the mages got any proper education in basic subjects like English and Mathematics.

They all wore their new armour with pride. They looked stronger. They felt stronger. Their arrangements within the formation only sought to compliment each other, with the mid-ranged (long-ranged mages were part of the artillery team) in the rear and the beefy, melee-only, mages as front-liners. The agile, vulnerable mages acted as support in the middle.

‘Um. Leader, sir?’

Gin hadn’t realised that he got lost in his admiration of his work. When he snapped out of it, he saw the new stone elemental. As he examined him, Gin realised that the mage’s the stone exoskeleton acted like a mask. You couldn’t see his face, or any body part for that matter, apart from his hazel-brown eyes.

‘Do I know you?’ Gin queried.

‘Oh. No. I don’t think so. I’m Sam.’

The voice was muffled through the mask but. It was still audible though, but had a rough sound. It still didn’t help Gin remember who this person was.

‘And you’re here because?’

‘Right. I was told to be your handyman. I help carry your stuff,’ he said.

‘Um. I don’t have anything for you to carry. Did someone say I needed help?’

‘No. I was in Rob’s battalion. I watched you. I liked you. I asked for a transfer but I didn’t know what I can do. I thought I could help carry stuff.’

Gin felt slightly irked. He didn’t know why. Was it his style of speaking or the stalker-like personality Sam seemed to have? Or maybe it was the fact that it felt like talking to a golem rather than a mage.

‘Does leader not need me?’ he asked, with a little sadness in the muffled voice.

‘It’s fine. The more I command, the stronger my battalion becomes. I’ll find out your abilities later. How about you act as my messenger and help carry out my orders?’

‘Mm. Ok!’ Sam said excitedly. ‘Oh. Why is leader here? Why aren’t you in the caravan? Other leaders are sitting in the caravans. The Lupims will pull them to destination. Rest of us will walk.’

‘Are they? Wow. Did we get that privilege?’

‘Yes.’

Gin thought about it for a moment. He didn’t like the idea of walking for hundreds of kilometres, but he also wanted to gain the respect of his battalion even further.

‘So that’s why Brim left his battalion to go to the caravans. I don’t blame him for his laziness though. I think will walk alongside my battalion.’

‘Really?!’

‘Yeah I guess.’

‘Leader is amazing! You treat us E ranks like equals. I like you more now.’

‘Thanks,’ Gin replied, turning a little red from the praise. ‘As my newly appointed messenger, mind relaying that to the other battalion members? They probably will try to make room for me.’

‘Mm. Will do!’ Sam accepted, scurrying off to tell the others.

Gin went around talking to everyone in his battalion. As D, E and F ranks, they were just as inexperienced in war as Gin was. Their nervousness showed, but as the day went on, talking with their leader calmed them down. It was the least he could do.

The chatter went on into the nights, as the mages camped outside the rezah as practise. Gin struggled setting up his tent. As a battalion leader, he was given one while the others had to sleep outside. It collapsed three times before he asked for help. How was he supposed to know that you were meant to stake down the corners first or where to put the wooden poles? His battalion laughed at his helplessness. It just meant that he was just like them; weak by himself, but his reliance on others made him strong.

They discussed tactics the following day. It was different from the usual training sessions (Gin had to, otherwise he risked facing Joan’s wrath). It got mixed opinions, from the downright bored, to those who stuck to him like a snail. Whatever Gin did, Sam was beside him watching eagerly. He acted like he was a child following his idol.

Suddenly, everyone went quiet and their eyes were focused onto the skies. The tinoos above them screeched a deafening sound. They dived down, before soaring back to their original heights. Two more tinoos joined the original three as they changed their formation from the circle to a V-shaped arrowhead. Gin knew what that meant.

‘Alright!’ Gin ordered. ‘Everyone into formation!’

It was time to go.